Page 82 of I Do, I Do, I Do
“Lord, woman!” Gasping and wild-eyed, Bear raised his head and looked around, his gaze fixing on the billiard table. Carrying her to the table, he sat her on the side before a wave of his hand sent the billiard balls flying off the felt and rattling across the floor. Frantically, his eyes ravaging her, he tore at his clothing. His waistcoat sailed toward the kitchen. He ripped a sleeve while getting out of his shirt before hurling it aside.
Clara’s heart leaped when she noticed the mat of fine golden hair glistening on his broad chest. Hewasa Viking. A shimmering gold giant of a man with flaring muscle and tight sinew. A man with no soft parts—except his heart.
Before he climbed up on the billiard table, she saw the golden hair on his calves and thighs. His manhood stood in a thick soft nest. She stared at that rampant manhood for a moment, and her eyes widened. “Oh, heavens,” she breathed happily, fanning her face with her hand. “My, my, my.”
Then Bear was on the table and lifting her up next to him. First he kissed her so hard and deep that she went limp with sensation. She was unable to move, unable to breathe. All she could do was feel. Feel her heart pounding against her ribs, feel the fire in her belly. Feel the heat and unyielding power of his big barrel chest hot against her body. Feel his thighs against hers, and feel his stiff length hard against her stomach.
Then she wrapped her arms around him and pressed against him as hard as she could while hot wild kisses rained over her face, her throat, the hills of her breasts. She rolled on top of him so she could shower kisses on him. Kisses on his shaggy flying hair. Kisses on the scar that tracked through his eyebrow. Kisses on his ears and the sweet corners of his mouth, kisses on his throat and the pulse throbbing at the dip of his collarbone. And oh, the taste of him. He tasted like salt and soap, an odd combination that drove her crazy with wanting him.
When her mouth and tongue had him groaning and gasping, he grabbed her, intending to roll on top of her. Locked together, they rolled across the billiard table and right off the edge, hitting the floor with a crash that jarred the whole cabin. A series of secondary thuds shook the planks.
“Are you all right?” Bear asked, blinking up at her.
“I landed on you. Are you all right?” Tomorrow they’d both have a few bruises from this fall, but that was the last thing on her mind.
He grinned. “Take off those drawers, and I’ll show you how all right I am.”
“What were those thuds?”
He lifted his head and peered through the legs of the billiard table. “The bear, two elk, and the wildcat fell off the wall.”
“We’ve got a broken table, broken photograph, ale and billiard balls on the floor, and animal heads are falling off the walls. Should we—?”
“Never mind that, honey girl. We’re busy.” He rolled over her and kissed her hard and urgently again and again until they were both gasping for air, slick with sweat, and totally unaware of their surroundings.
When Clara thought she would die, would surely die if she didn’t get her drawers off and jump on this man, when she thought she would shake apart, she was trembling so violently, he pulled her to her feet, scooped her into his arms, and carried her into his bedroom.
He placed her on the bed, and his big clumsy fingers fumbled at her laces, tugging and pulling until he’d loosened them enough for Clara to wiggle free.
“Honey girl,” he said in a hoarse voice of wonder, “if you only knew how many times I’ve imagined this!” Sitting beside her, looking at her like she was a banquet, he drew his fingertips down the sides of her breasts, then gently rubbed his forefingers across the stiffening buds at the tips. He filled his hands, then bent his head and kissed and licked and nibbled and sucked until a half scream built in her throat.
Dropping back on the bed, she arched her body and whispered urgently. “The drawers. Help me with my drawers.”
He tore them off and sent them flying over his shoulder. Then he just looked at her lying before him naked. “You are magnificent,” he breathed, his brown-bear eyes soft. Almost reverently, he placed his hand over the triangle of curly red hair between her thighs. The heat of his hand sank deep into her, like a brand.
“Come here,” she said in a throaty voice, opening her arms.
The hard, hot length of his body covered her, and he claimed her lips with his mouth, his fingers in the tangled fountain of curls. He kissed her breath away, kissed her senses away. And she loved the silky touch of his chest hair on her breasts, loved how their frantic heartbeats pounded as one and their legs wrapped together and their urgent hands found the right places.
Her fingers curled around him, and he dropped his head to the pillow with a low groan. “Clara, Clara.”
Stroking and teasing, she turned her head and breathed in his ear until his member jumped in her hand and she felt him trembling.
Then he rose above her and gently guided her knees up. Leaning over her, he kissed her long and deep before he entered her. Slowly, carefully, watching her, he moved within her, and she sighed and arched to meet him. Joy lit his eyes, and he paused to clasp her in his arms. “My beautiful little Clara.”
If there were no other reason, she would love him because he thought she was little. She grabbed his face and pulled his mouth down on hers, putting her heart and soul into a kiss that shook her to the center.
Passion exploded between them, a passion that demanded deep hard thrusts and the oil of sweat and cries of rapture. The powerful passion of gods coupling on Mount Olympus while lightning flashed and the heavens quaked.
At the height of their ecstasy, the ropes supporting the bouncing mattress broke with pinging snaps, one after another, and the mattress dropped to the floor, spilling them out on the rug. They scarcely noticed. Clara rolled on top of him, arched her throat, and rocked her body, feeling the burn of his hands on her hips and his mouth on her breasts.
Waves of dizzying sensation shivered through her. She couldn’t see, couldn’t think, could only soar and fall, soar and fall, mindlessly chanting his name. When her body slumped over him, he rolled her beneath him and thrust into her so fully, so fast and deep and hard that she thought the whole earth had slipped from its axis.
But it was the cabin. As Bear shouted her name and stiffened above her, the southern corner of the cabin rocked off its piling and smashed down on the frozen ground. An enormous crash sounded from the living room as the billiard table slid along the incline and then crashed against the south wall, bringing down the rest of the trophy heads. Tables and chairs followed, breaking apart as they smashed into the pile of debris.
The broken bed slid past them and slammed against the interior wall where the bureau had been. The bureau was now in the living room. They heard it crash and shatter against the billiard table.
Locked together, holding tight, Clara and Bear rolled downhill and hit the side slat of the broken bed.
